The Multiverse: A Necron's Adventures
by Mighty White
Summary: This is the first of a Series of short stories, which follow Trazyn the Infinite and his small army of lychguard in several adventures as they attempt to find their way back to their own universe(and acquire a few relics on the way!) Enjoy! Please review and include any ideas for what universe the next episode should be set in, this is for you, so please give your thoughts! Thanks!
1. An unforseen Circumstance

**_Prologue_**

Curiosity does not come naturally to a Necron. Most members of this ancient race lack any understanding, or desire for understanding of anything outside of their assigned tasks.

So when a Necron shows interest and curiosity in something, then the following results are certain to be interesting. This story you are about to be told will show you things from the viewpoint of the Curator and Lord of Solemnace, Trazyn the Infinite as he meets several strange new creatures and people after he discovers an unusual artefact...

**_Chapter One_**

It had been an interesting time for Trazyn. A campaign on the tomb world of Carnac had recently taken place, which he had involved himself in at the request of the Necron Lord Anrakyr the Traveller. Trazyn thought to himself for a moment about the actions of Anrakyr; _They really are ponderous. Why would he spend so much time and expend such effort on such a pointless vanity crusade? So far his actions have yielded nought but the destruction of his forces time and time again, even more disturbing is everything that he destroys that should be preserved. It's insanity. _Trazyn shook his head in disgust, but in the end it mattered little. Even Anrakyr would be preserved in his gallery, his actions and deeds, no matter how horrific, being immortalised for the rest of time. Trazyn turned his thoughts back to the present moment. The acquisition of Anrakyr would have to wait. It was time to land.

As the starship docked into one of the many ports of Solemnace Trazyn ordered for a team of Spyders to meet him once he departed the transport, for only they had the combined might and careful precision needed to move the Spirit Shrine recovered from the Eldar Exodites on Carnac. _At least something good came of this, _he thought. Trazyn was always loathe to leave Solemnace for anything other than acquiring a piece for his gallery, especially something as pointless as a war! The Spirit Shrine would make an excellent addition to his 'Eldar psychic marvels' collection, though.

As the Spyders took away the Shrine to it's appropriate holding place (under the EXTREMELY close eye of their master) a small, single Scarab bumbled it's way to Trazyn, it's wings chittering enthusiastically. Trazyn reached down to it without ever turning his head from the crew that was shifting his beloved new Spirit Shrine. The Scarab was a particularly special model, although not too difficult to replicate: It monitored the systems of the Gallery whilst Trazyn was out on business. While a Wraith would normally be the one to perform this task, with a scarab carrying out this duty, Trazyn could manually upload the data from the Scarab to his mind, so no detail would be missed out.

The Scarab climbed onto Trazyn's outstretched palm and linked itself to him. _Let's see what has happened in my absence, _he thought. _Hmm, two malfunctions, unusual. Both Wraith units, both were restrained. _That was a relief. He would have smiled but his expression was constantly fixed in a menacing glare. _The second unit, however, destroyed two exhibits. _Irritation flared. _The first damaged item was a knife which belonged to the Kroot Shaper who struck the bargain with the Tau when they were at war with the Orks. Unique but it can be replaced, I suppose. The other damaged item was an ancient Necrontyr Vase. _Trazyn's hand closed fiercely, crushing the small Scarab within, as it gave out a small electronic squeal. He sprinkled the shattered remains of the robot on the floor in disgust. _That vase was priceless and will be incredibly difficult to replace. _He turned to the Captain as he stepped out of the mighty vessel, "Gather two phalanxes of Lychguard from the Carnac force," he said "it looks like we'll be returning for more spoils."

The ship was underway, a return course to Carnac plotted into the ships A.I mainframe. There really wasn't that much need for a Captain, it was more a case of tradition, carried over from the Time of Flesh. The so called 'Captain' merely plotted courses and ordered individual units around to repair the ship when necessary. They rarely piloted the ship, only in cases where the need was severe, such as a malfunction of the ship's A.I.

"My Lord," the Captain spoke in his dull, emotionless tone, "We are receiving an unknown signal from the nearby moon." Trazyn moved towards the helm. "What does it say?" He spoke to the Captain, with only a slight hint of a curious tone. "It seems to be a request for help. It was not here before, so it must have activated when we passed by the first time, but we had travelled out of range by that time. It is Necron in origin," the captain motioned to the screen displaying the message, along with a Necrontyr sigil, "I do not recognise the dynasty though, my Lord. Apologies." Trazyn waved the apology away. "That is no problem," said Trazyn, his curiosity piqued, "take us in to find out."

The ship descended to the surface of the moon, to discover the source of the ominous distress call, but what was to follow could not be expected, not even by the great Orikan the Diviner himself.


	2. The Facility

_**Twenty-thousand years ago...**_

There were several loud bangs as the door was forced down, and a horde of beasts all different shapes, colours and sizes flooded through the giant, gaping hole they had made. The Daemons had been trying to gain access to the central chamber for days and the facility's security measures had managed to hold them at bay for a long time. But the forces of chaos were relentless in their assault. It seemed that for every Daemon that fell, another three would materialise and hack to pieces the aggressor.

Bloody chunks were flying everywhere as a the hallways were spattered with gore, but even for all this the Necron countermeasures could only battle the Daemons for so long. They would be worn down eventually. A Wraith engaged a small pack of bloodletters, pinning them down with it's whip coils whilst it's bladed arms when to work, tearing slicing arms from bodies and severing heads. Another Daemon appeared behind the Wraith and launched a gout of blue fire, reducing it to a steaming pile of melted metal in seconds. Scarabs were crushed underfoot, Warriors had their heads severed and and the Spyders were torn apart, piece by piece. The Daemons had swept aside the resistance and now proceeded to claim their prize...

**_The present day..._**

The transport touched down sluggishly on the planet's surface close to the source of the transmission, as per Trazyn's orders: There was no time for an exploration shuttle! They needed to be in there now! Trazyn stepped down from the descending ramp, surrounded by a Cadre of the finest Triarch Praetorians, who were sweeping the air with their Rods of Covenant, daring anything to come at their master. Following The Curator and his personal guard, were eighty Lychguard, poised an ready to strike at a moments notice. Trazyn scanned the area in front of him for something, anything, that could clue him in to the whereabouts of this mysterious station. A flicker of light as something rippled in the distance. "There." Trazyn pointed to the disturbance and the Praetorians complied. At once they raised their weapons and unleashed furious bolts of energy in unison. The energy bolts hit a force-field and were dispelled, crackling, over it's surface. This did nothing to dissuade the Praetorians, they simply redoubled their efforts and fired barrage after barrage of energy bolts until the shield could take no more and fell before their assault. A large metal platform, about 80 foot across, was now exposed. The small, but formidable, force strode fearlessly towards the platform, with Trazyn leading the way. The secrets of this place would be discovered by him and no others.

As they reached the platform Trazyn looked around, confused. There was nothing here, save for the platform itself, which had nine small indents on it. Trazyn turned to the commander of his Praetorian bodyguard, "Form a perimeter and keep watch," he ordered, "there is something at work here." The commander nodded and replied, "By your word, my Lord." Trazyn turned away and moved towards the markings for further study. Eight of them were identical, but the ninth was significantly larger than the rest. _How odd,_ he thought, I_ recognise eight of these markings, but I cannot think, for the un-life of me, where from. It looks as though they may be for... _Trazyn turned to the nearest Praetorian. "You," he addressed it, "do you think there is something familiar about these?" The Praetorian stepped around and stared silently. Without warning it slammed the firing end of it's weapon into the hole and discharged a blast from it. A vein of energy not previously visible pulsed brightly and then faded. The Praetorian explained, "This is an ancient seal used by the Silent King, before the Great Sleep. Only A blast from a rod of covenant or the energy from the staff of the Silent King," It pointed at the larger hole, "may open this. Eight rods will have to be entered and fired in unison to activate the platform." Trazyn stood up. _The Silent King! This is bound to be an incredible find! _"Then get to it," he commanded, "I must know what is down there." The Praetorian bowed his head and went to inform the others.

The platform began to descend in response to the energy it was supplied with, from the Praetorian's weaponry. Trazyn felt excited (Or as close to "feeling" excited as a soulless killing machine can get) at the prospect of what may be down in the depths of this outpost. He had acquired a great deal of secrets from other races, for his gallery: The personal journal of Commissar Yarrick, detailing the true nature of the events of the war on Armageddon, as well as a holo-recording explaining why the Flame Falcons chapter of the Space Marines was really exterminated. These are just two examples of the many secrets of the universe hidden within Solemnace. Never, though, had Trazyn managed to obtain any of the secrets of his own race. They were all too well guarded within the deepest reaches of their respective tomb worlds, but as the lift began to draw to a screeching halt, Trazyn knew this would no longer remain so.

The heavily armed group stepped off the platform. A long dark corridor stretched out before them, unusually silent for a recently activated complex. No Wraiths were slithering about, maintaining systems. This place seemed truly devoid of anything. Trazyn was not put off though: Something activated the distress signal, so there had to be something worth protecting in here, plus the Praetorian's words about the Silent King still played on his mind. He activated his staff and it gave off a brilliant light that illuminated the large corridor. Trazyn observed the now visible walls: They were a deep black and seemed to be made up of slabs, similar to the sides of a monolith. The slabs were constantly shifting and that was when he realised.

There was something lurking within the shimmering surface of the walls.

Trazyn turned to his force. "Be ready for battle!" He called out in his grating robotic tone. As the Lychguard raised their warscythes defensively, the Praetorians encircled Trazyn to defend him from any threats. He raised his Obliterator to strike the moving beings that dwelled in the walls... "I wouldn't advise on that. Not unless you want to be torn apart by a horde of savage Daemons." A voice resonated around the cavernous corridor. "My units are more than capable of handling a few Daemons. Who are you and why should I trust you?" Trazyn replied. The voice ignored the question "Not these kind of Daemons. Come to the end of the corridor. You will find a door. Do not ignore my instructions. They will awake soon." Trazyn weighed up his options and decided. The owner of the voice was obviously the one who activated the distress signal, so it would be wise to heed his words; then there was also the fact that wherever the voice originated from was probably where all of the additions to his gallery would be held. "Stand down." He said to his forces. Now he addressed the voice, "Ok. We are coming down. Be ready to receive us." There was no reply but a white light appeared from the end of the corridor. "Stay on your guard." He told the troops. They moved warily towards the doorway, constantly eyeing the walls.


	3. Voydonn & the portal

**Author's notes:**

**My thanks to those who've reviewed this series. It's only been going for a couple days or so, but it has yielded positive responses so far, so I plan to continue with it. The next chapter will be much more interesting than the previous ones. Anyway, here's what you've been after. Please enjoy.**

**Just a quick update, sorry for this but I've been away for a while and am currently very busy with college, so chances are that the next chapter won't be up for a while. Please be patient as I WILL be updating this story, although I am unsure when. Thanks. **

* * *

The facility was everything Trazyn had hoped it would be, and more. All manner of trinkets were dotted around the room, the historical value of some of these things alone was fantastic! The first ever pocket dimension projector (Made countless aeons ago) was stored here, alongside several other fascinating inventions: Portable eternity gates/dimensional corridors flickered into life, specialised Scarabs demonstrated how they made use of pocket dimensions to get INSIDE of hostile infantry and vehicles alike and chew them to pieces. A unique form of phase shifter which could be fired at walls and cover to render them useless to hide or protect what was behind them was showing it's power to those who would observe it. But nobody had been around to observe these wonders of technology for thousands of years. _I will have to take these with me, _Thought Trazyn, _these must be preserved for their own sake._

"Incredible aren't they?" said a voice as it's owner stepped out from the shadows. It was an ancient looking Cryptek who wielded an ornate staff not akin to any the designs of staves of other Cryptek Conclaves. "Somewhat, I suppose." Trazyn hid his wonder well, which wasn't particularly difficult as he could only speak in four different tones of voice. The Cryptek laughed in response, which surprised every other Necron in the room. "Did you just... laugh?!" Trazyn asked shocked. Surprise was very rare in Necrons, but then again, so was any display of emotion other than disdain. "Of course," Replied the old Necron "The immaterium is a realm made up of the emotions of the lesser races, so to truly comprehend it, one must have emotional responses programmed into their minds. The Silent King understood this was necessary and ensured that our work was kept secret." That got Trazyn's attention. _So... My Praetorian was correct. The Silent King was involved here..._ "What was your work exactly? Who are you?" He had a lot of questions that needed answers. The Cryptek chuckled again and Trazyn shuffled about uncomfortably. The sound of Necron laughter was rough and quite... Disturbing. "All in good time," the Cryptek replied, "as for your second question I can tell you that my name is Voydonn, leader of the Conclave of the Harbingers of Reality" He paused then added, "at least I was. Now I am all that remains..." He sounded sorrowful, if not, remorseful. "Anyway! Follow me! I have something to show you." Voydonn chirped. He raised a hand at the wall and two slabs slid apart to reveal another room. "Come." He demanded "You will like this."

The next room was significantly smaller than the previous one and contained only a single pedestal. Upon this pedestal was a red glowing orb on which were two indents the shape of hands. Trazyn was transfixed on the orb. Quickly he tore his gaze away from the mysterious object. "So, Voydonn, what was the nature of your work? You also have not asked my name yet." He said impatiently. _We may not be creatures of flesh any longer but we are both intelligent beings. A modicum of decency is not too much too ask for, I think. _Voydonn turned to him, "I have not asked your name because I already knew it." Trazyn was once again taken aback. This Ancient scientist was full of surprises. "How?" he asked. "The Daemons whisper of you. They say you have taken many things that belong to them." Voydonn replied, his tone almost accusatory. "I have. What of it?" Trazyn retorted. "Nothing. They are filthy creatures, who deserve no respect, even less than the younger races." Voydonn replied with innocence. "Alright," Trazyn concluded, satisfied. "But what of the Daemons? Why are they here, and why did you send out the distress signal now?" Voydonn sighed, breathlessly. Another unusual expression for a Necron to make. "It is a long story. I would ask you to take a seat but... well there are none, and we are beings of metal. We do not tire."

So Voydonn explained to Trazyn about how the Silent King commissioned this secret order to research into the reality bending powers of the Warp, so they might better defend the Necron race against the threat they could not combat with normal sciences: The Daemonic host of the Warp. The group developed many common sciences in use by the Necrons: Pocket Dimensions, Gateways, Phase Shifters and even Gloom Prisms. "This whole facility is actually shielded by a prototype Gloom Prism array we developed," Voydonn revealed, "you see, we were attacked about twenty-thousand years ago by a horde of the Daemons. We were forced to use the prototype to keep them at bay." His voice was monotone for once, which comforted Trazyn. "That is why they are in the walls. The walls' slabs are highly resistant to energy, which is why they entered them: to hide from the field generated by the array. They are the elite of the Daemonic forces. Our rather meagre defences could not defeat them. It would take an entire army to vanquish them, and now that the array is de-activated they will be awakening soon." Trazyn asked surprised, "Why would you do that?" Voydonn explained, "The distress signal is emitted by a Superluminal Warp communications array, so the prototype interferes with it. It is of no consequence though. I only deactivated because I detected your ship, Trazyn, carrying a large force. You can call them in, they will defeat the Daemons and we can leave." Trazyn said nothing at first, then, "My army is back on Solemnace. The only military forces with me are my personal bodyguard." Voydonn let out another mechanical sigh, "Then there is only one course of action. We must use the Dimensional Transporter." He motioned to the orb, "I had not wanted to do this."

Slowly, he stepped towards the pedestal. "What is that, Voydonn?" Trazyn asked carefully. Voydonn replied, without turning around, "A way out. I will explain more afterwards but for now you will have to trust me." Carefully he grasped the orb with two hands and it began to shake violently, a large beam of energy fired out from the front an a shape began to form. A large red doorway. Nothing could be seen through it. "Why don't you just reactivate the Gloom Prism array? I will contact my ship, tell it to gather reinforcements and we can be out of here soon." Trazyn proposed grandly. Voydonn shook his head, "I cannot. The array was a prototype, not meant to run for such a long time. It burnt out when it was deactivated and cannot be repaired. I have had twenty-thousand years to think about this. There is no alternative." Trazyn was despondent at having to leave behind so many artefacts worth preservation, but accepted it. "Where does this doorway lead?" Voydonn informed Trazyn, "I do not know. There is no way of refining the transporter. Now stop asking questions and tell your Lychguard Commander that a quarter of them will have to remain behind to hold off the Daemons. The portal will take time to close, and we do not want to be followed. The rest my come with us. Hurry!" Trazyn did as was requested and ensured that twenty of his troopers would defend the opening. Then he gathered the rest and walked towards the portal. He could hear the cries as the hordes awoke after millennia of slumber. Voydonn had already stepped through. Trazyn took one last look around and thought of all the artefacts that lay behind him, and all those that lay ahead of the great, red portal in front of him.

And then he stepped through.


	4. A whole new universe

_**Sorry about how long it took to get this up. I really didn't enjoy writing it all that much. I tried to make it interesting but I'm not too sure of my success. This chapter is mainly just to set the scene and answer a few things. The next one will be up much more quickly than this one was though. Thanks for your patience. **_

Searing pain travelled through Trazyn's mind. He was unsure how such a thing was possible, as his mechanical body was supposed to be immune to any form of wear that would affect the living. His vision was blurred and whatever he could see was filled with red. He didn't think he could take much more, but then the feelings of pain ebbed. His vision returned to him, albeit slowly. Trazyn felt solid ground beneath his knees as he crashed into it and he felt his audio receptors re-adjusting to a standard tone and noise level. An uncomfortable dizziness still hung over him though, like a foul cloud. Slowly, he looked up to see a familiar figure standing over him. "Voydonn?" Trazyn croaked. The word only barely managed to find it's way out. The Cryptek outstretched his hand to provide assistance, but Trazyn swatted it away. "I do not need your help!" he spat and rose to his feet. Voydonn merely withdrew his hand and stood back, "Come," he said "the others will be coming through momentarily, and you should move out of the way." Trazyn looked him square in his 'eye'. "Fine. But you have a lot of questions to answer." Voydonn nodded slowly in response and with that, Trazyn stumbled away from the portal to find a place out of the way, where he could stand and ruminate about what exactly was happening right now.

Trazyn was trying to remain angry at Voydonn for placing him in this predicament, but he found he could not. Whenever he thought about what was happening he realised more and more that he did not actually understand what was happening. He really did need Voydonn's assistance. Eventually he swallowed his pride and called Voydonn over. "So," Voydonn said smugly, "now you want my help." Trazyn ignored his smugness and began his questioning "What is happening at the moment? Where are we?" Voydonn grew serious and took his time replying. He looked down, "I do not know. All I know is that we have crossed the barrier inbetween universes." Trazyn was surprised to hear that! _So, a new universe. A new universe means all new histories. And all new histories means all new artefacts to collect! I am going to enjoy this! _"So if we're in a new universe what is our first step?" Trazyn was unsure of what to do but although this was something new to Voydonn he was not so clueless. "Listen closely. Do you hear that?" Voydonn asked. Trazyn listened out for what the other Necron was talking about. He heard a clamour of voices and one booming voice cutting through them all. Then a large crash caught his attention. The last of his force came through the doorway grappling with a large daemon. The two rolled around the floor, with the daemon snarling and snapping, until the Lychguard managed to grasp it by the horns and, with tremendous effort, tear it's head in two. After the messy work was done it grasped it's warscythe and went to join the rest of it's squadron. Trazyn turned his attention back to Voydonn. "I hear the noise of lesser races. What of it? We should end them and continue on." Voydonn shook his head, "No. Not this time. We need their help." Trazyn scoffed at the notion "What help could they possibly offer us?" Voydonn continued "The machine is damaged," He held up the orb, "we cannot go anywhere until I repair it and find a more stable power source, which I'm willing to bet these people will be able to help with." Trazyn was not convinced, but Voydonn could sense this. "Come, let us observe them and I shall explain further."

As they went to the opening Trazyn had his first chance to really study his surroundings. The walls were made of a dark brown metal and looked fairly strong, although he wagered it quite possible that they would not be able to withstand a shot from a doomsday cannon, although realistically, very little could. The floor was made of a similar material, but mostly it was covered in sand. "Explain to me what this has to do with the silent king?" Trazyn asked. Voydonn did not turn his head to acknowledge the question and began: "You already know that my conclave researched into the warp," Trazyn nodded to confirm this, "but what I have not told you is about the Dimensional Transporter. You see, the king came to us and tasked us with developing a way to safely breach the immaterium. Our research led us to create a prototype, which was actually the predecessor to this device I now hold," He admired the orb proudly and then continued, "We tested to see if it worked and, much to our surprise, we found that it worked even better than we imagined. A hole was torn open and we sent a probe through, however what we did not expect was that when the tear closed, we lost contact with the probe. We repeated our experiment and had the same result each time. We eventually theorised that the opening did not just lead to another plane of reality, but an entirely different universe." Voydonn sighed and Trazyn cringed at the sound. "That is enough for now," Voydonn said, "we have business to attend to.

The pair stared out of the doorway, from the shadows. There were metal bars blocking their path but when the time came a hyperphase sword would make short work of them. What they were seeing was a vast arena covered in sand. There were hundreds of insectoid creatures jeering and booing at the arena which appeared to have three pillars, each of which had a person chained to it. There were two men and a woman. The scene looked like some sort of execution, as large animals advanced on the seemingly helpless humans. At the head of the viewing platform was an elderly man in a cape and what appeared to be a jumpsuit. At his side was something clad in blue and silver armour. "What do we do?" Trazyn asked, Extremely irate at being surrounded by hundreds of potentially deadly beings. Voydonn only stared and did not reply for a few seconds. "I intercepted some form of communications. It seemed primitive, but it was useful. There will be an attack soon, by what was being referred to as a 'clone trooper army' on this arena." Trazyn was growing impatient. "How does that help us then?" He snapped. Voydonn looked at him and he only chuckled, saying "just wait." Trazyn grumbled but let the matter be. He could tell by the way Voydonn spoke that it was going to be very interesting. Very interesting indeed.


	5. Slaughter

_**Sorry again about the wait. Been a hectic summer. Please enjoy. **_

Unit-855 was both anxious and excited in anticipation of what was to come. Countless hours of combat drills and training, alongside the finest weapons and armour available, ensured that the clones would be an unstoppable fighting force. And yet 855 could not help but worry. What if they were not enough to handle the droids? What if the separatists had some secret weapon that they did not know about? Then there was Jango Fett, from who they were all cloned. How could they stand against the battle hardened bounty hunter himself? Delta-855 reassured himself - he and the rest of his army were being commanded by Jedi! To think they could miss something was absolutely ridiculous!

He smiled beneath his helmet. He knew the plan and it was perfect: They would lay down suppressing fire from the gunship as they descend, taking out dozens of clankers before they even disembarked. Then the Jedi would join in and demolish the ranks of the enemy. He looked down and stroked his DC-15A pattern blaster, pleased at its elegant design and the magnificent sound it made when it hit it's target. It would be a slaughter remembered by the whole galaxy for a long time to come. His helmet communicator clicked on and the pilot's voice came through, "Thirty seconds until arrival. Prepare for landing." The comm shut off again. _This is it. I'm ready for this. Remember your training and fight your hardest for the Republic and the Chancellor. _

The gunship drew to a sudden juddering halt as the familiar shriek of blaster fire pierced the air. 855 Jumped from the craft and fired off several shots destroying droid after droid. One down, two, three, four. He was really enjoying this! The arena was ablaze with blaster bolts and 855 felt more alive than ever before! From the corner of his eye he noticed a purple flash and saw the head of Jango Fett fly through the air! The bounty hunter had been defeated! Nothing could stop them now! As the remaining droids in the battlefield were destroyed, the clones and the Jedi turned their attention to a large gate in the distance, from which a phalanx of super battle droid reinforcements poured forth.

They fired on the new targets who began firing back, as a result. Then something extremely unexpected happened. Something so unusual that it caused even the Jedi to stop in their tracks: The supers had ceased fire. A few clones let off some more shots but the droids still did not retaliate. The clones took it as a sign of surrender and began whooping and cheering at their glorious victory, lowering their weapons to congratulate each other. The Jedi were not quite as cheery as the clones, however, as they continued to stare at the ominously still formation ahead of them.

Without warning the droids began to turn and parted, creating a pathway between the two, now separate sides of the phalanx. This caught the troopers attention and the cheering began to die down. A few raised their weapons cautiously. From the darkness behind the droids a green light began to glow. The light grew bigger as it moved closer. Suddenly the light stopped. The droids remained still as ever. The clones began to look at each other in uncertainty. Amidst it all 855 felt his zeal turn to worry.

Then the real fighting began.

Green beams of energy ignited the air as they whizzed past the droids, which stood perfectly still through all of it. The beams slammed home and each cut clean through ten clones before stopping. A few Jedi raised their lightsabers to protect themselves, but the blades of plasma simply couldn't withstand such powerful energies. A few beams were absorbed by their weapons, but this just overloaded them and caused them to break. The Jedi were, for the first time, unsure of what to do. Some ran forward to assault the unknown aggressors and others took cover to consider what to do next.

855 had been put in a state of surprise. He stood dumbly as beams flew around him and mercilessly cut down his brothers. He stared as a horde of metal skeletons wielding staves, _staves_, strode slowly towards them and weathered blaster fire as if they were being hit by balls of cotton wool. One of them moved towards him and still he found that he could not move. He watched with sheer terror as it closed in.

The world had slowed down around him. The thing was inches from him now, and as he stared deeply into the green light, burning in it's eye-sockets, he knew he was looking into the face of something more evil than anything he had ever known. He could have screamed, he could have run, but he didn't, he just stood, dumbfounded. Then he felt an impact and was forced backwards a step. The skeleton had impaled him on it's staff. 855 was still focused on the monsters eye's and it never seemed to removed it's gaze from him either.

The skeleton hoisted him into the air, plucked him from the end of it's staff and with one hand, threw him over his shoulder with no effort. 855 flew twenty feet before he landed, hard. As he lay there, bleeding out on the Geonosian sand, watching his brothers die, screaming, he couldn't help but think: He had been wrong about this whole operation. Everything went wrong. Everything. He had been right about one thing though. This was going to be a slaughter.

_**Fifteen minutes earlier...**_

"Tell me again how this helps?" Trazyn asked Voydonn with doubt in his voice. The duo had decided to make their move when the ships touched down, whilst both sides were distracted. "Well," Voydonn began explaining, "when we reach that elderly fellow on the platform we will offer our services in exchange for some resources and technology." After the ships landed the two activated their phase shifters and walked, undetected, across the battlefield. "Why can't we just kill them and take what we need?" Trazyn was disgusted at the notion of working with a human. Voydonn shook his head, "This is a completely unknown place to us. We need a guide as well as materials." Trazyn did not answer and just continued to seethe inwardly.

As they reached the walkway that led to the platform, they stood for a moment, observing the people before them. There was the old man, the armoured warrior and a pair of robots. One of the 'Jedi' leapt up to assault the old man, who just turned to face his attacker. The armoured one pulled a gun out in response and quickly killed him, afterwards he leapt down to join the battle below. Voydonn stepped forward. "Trazyn, it seems now is the opportune moment to act. And remember: be courteous." Trazyn moved towards the old man and spoke "Greetings." The two robots turned and raised their weapons at Trazyn, who remained completely calm and waited for a response.

"Greetings yourself." Came the reply. The man turned around to face whoever was speaking. He was surprised at what was looking back at him. "Are you some new form of droid? How did you get up here?" Trazyn assumed that a 'droid' was one one of the machines that were currently threatening him. _How insulting. Still, we require his help. I must remain... Civil. If that is even possible with such a lesser creature. _"No, I am no droid. I am a... Traveller, my name is Trazyn and the one behind me is Voydon." Voydonn bowed slightly. "We were travelling with our small retinue and I couldn't help but notice your problem. I am here to offer support. I will explain how I reached you later. Who are you?" Trazyn was satisfied with his restraint.

"Who am I?" The man almost sounded insulted. Too bad. "I am Count Dooku and I don't need your help. My finest soldier, Jango Fett, has just joined the battle." He pointed to Jango, who was running toward a dark skinned Jedi, with a purple blade. A few shots later and the fine warrior's head was gliding through the air. Trazyn looked on with mild interest, observing from the shadows so that he could not be seen by anybody not on the platform. Dooku took a step back and locked eyes with the Jedi before turning away.

"Can he still fight without his head?" Trazyn put the question to Dooku with as much sarcasm as possible. Dooku turned and glared at him. "I thought not. So I assume you'll be wanting my help now?" He liked watching this human squirm. There was a loud whooshing sound as a red blade of energy was placed to the side of Trazyn's neck. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you now." Dooku spat the words out in a rage. Trazyn's patience had run out now. He had no time for this and he didn't like being threatened. He leant forward with menace, which was only increased by the red glow cast on the side of his face, "Because you cannot kill that which is already dead and if you even try my men will level this place and I will take great joy in flaying you personally. Do you understand me?"

Dooku considered this and retracted his weapon. He didn't believe that his force could hold such power, but he knew that if they did they would make a worthy ally. If not... Well he could always melt them down to make new droids. "Very well. Prove to me that you can do this. A group of droids is coming out now. I will send orders for them to stand aside." Trazyn put his hands together and stepped back, nodding. He gave the order for the Necrons to exit the room they were in once the droids had stepped to the side. "Now you will witness true power." He declared as the droid formation began to part, to which Dooku replied, "We shall see."

They all looked down on the destruction that was being sown by the Necrons. Trazyn looked merely satisfied: he knew the results that would follow, as did Voydonn, but Dooku was a different story. His expression was true awe, something he always took great care to hide on the rare occasions it was there, however this time was different. This was incredible. He had only before witnessed such carnage when watching General Grievous at work, although even that paled in comparison to this.

"I... wouldn't normally say this but I owe you an apology. I doubted you and you delivered admirably." Trazyn waved it away. "It is fine. Few humans can truly comprehend our magnificence before witnessing it." He watched as a clone was thrown over the shoulder of a Lychguard. "Yes, I can imagine. Although it would be much better if they worked faster than they do. They seem extremely slow." Trazyn would have taken that as an insult, but even he had to admit that Dooku was right. Necrons were notoriously slow movers. "I will see what I can do." He said, stepping down from the podium and falling to the ground.

He landed on his feet, throwing up a large dust cloud. One of the clones saw him and began firing erratically. Trazyn had his target. He walked towards him taking each blast easily. He charged up his obliterator and moved within striking distance. With a mighty swing he sliced off the trooper's arm, followed by a strike to the chest, which killed him instantly. The Psionic shockwave flew from the end of his staff, killing every clone in the arena in a spectacular fashion. The fact that each man was an exact copy enhanced the wave's power so much that it reduced each clone to a pile of goo. The necrons ceased their attack and regrouped around Trazyn. He looked up at Dooku intently and he knew that after such a display Dooku would supply him with anything he needed.


	6. Trazyn gets ahead

_**So. Where to start? I'm sorry this took a year to get on here. I went on a four week voluntary scheme kinda thing and just forgot/lost interest. Still, its on here now and I've breathed new life into the story. I also tried a new format, to make it easier to read. Let me know what you think! Not much happening in this chapter, just a nice little tidbit and cameo I think you'll enjoy. I need to get back into the swing of things, before I begin writing eventful happenings into this story. Thanks a bunch if you were patient enough to stick with it. Enjoy...**_

As he walked back to the podium, Trazyn took great care to avoid stepping in any of the waste created by the dead clone troopers, as such a foul substance would be difficult to get off of his legs once it cooled down and set.

Upon scanning the floor carefully, he was pleased with the results and took a moment to indulge in the pleasantness of the surprising power that his favoured weapon had unleashed.

_I have lost count of the creatures that have met their ends at the end of my Obliterator, but even so I have never before seen such a fantastical result._

Deep in thought, Trazyn passed a small boy, almost invisible, cowering in the shadows of the arena; but his mechanical eyes rarely failed to see anything. The child was clutching something. Whatever it was, it must have been something important. Trazyn's collector's instincts kicked in. With cold glee he walked over to the boy, no longer caring for the mess on the floor.

The occasional arm or leg that had not been completely dissolved knocked his legs, but he didn't notice. All his focus was on the little boy and his precious item. When he finally reached the boy, who was huddled in the shadows, just beneath Dooku's podium, he saw the boy was sobbing.

"Child," Trazyn demanded, "what are you holding?"

The boy said nothing in response, he just shook his head and continued weeping.

Upon further inspection, Trazyn saw that it was the helmet of Dooku's "finest warrior", with his severed head still inside.

_He may not have lived up to the title, but he was of value to Dooku, as well as this child, apparently, which makes him of even greater value to my collection._

Upon deciding this fact, he reached out automatically to the head and tried to take it. The boy pulled away, but ultimately, his efforts were in vain; he had no way of resisting the hulking mass of metal before him.

Trazyn plucked Jango's head from his grasp and stared intently at it for a few moments. The design of the helmet and it's overall effectiveness was crude compared to that of the Space Marines, yet the shape of it was somehow... Hypnotic.

He tore his gaze away as a small scarab crawled from out of his cloak and onto his arm. It opened a pocket dimension that Trazyn used for the storage of smaller relics such as this.

As the head and helmet fell into the pocket dimension, Trazyn turned his attention to the small, whining fleshling at his feet. The boy had begun beating on Trazyn's legs and screaming for the return of the head. He had never understood the emotions of the living, how they made them act so foolishly.

With a grating, breathless sigh he grabbed the child by the scruff of his shirt and hoisted him into the air. He was still kicking and screaming, even when brought to eye level with Trazyn. The gaze of a Necron could strike fear into the heart of an Ork Warboss, under the right circumstances, but it did nothing to this human.

As he held the boy and pondered how best to end his life, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. It was Voydonn. He had phased down after Trazyn had not returned alongside the Lychguard.

"Trazyn, I know what you're thinking. Put the young one down." Voydonn urged gently.

Trazyn turned back to Voydonn with marked surprise at the mercy the Cryptek had just expressed. Mercy had no place in the mind of a Necron, but then again, Voydonn was no ordinary Necron.

"Why? He is just a human, he has no value or use to us. It is best to put him down like the inferiority he is."

Trazyn went to crush the boy, but then Voydonn spoke again, this time with a more serious tone.

"Trazyn, my Chronometron is reacting rather violently to this child. We must not kill him."

Trazyn spun himself round, still clutching the child, until he was looking in Voydonn's direction. Chronometrons were Necron technology, as such they only responded to Necrons – and usually only high ranking ones at that.

"How is that possible? I know everything about Chronometrons -" he held up his own to emphasise his point "-and they do not do that."

"Well if that's what you think, clearly you don't know anything."

The remark wasn't meant to be cutting, just plain. Trazyn was tempted to strike this impudent scientist, but before he could, Voydonn began to explain.

"Yes, it is true that Chronometrons, back in our universe, do work for only us, as well as only giving short range predictions."

Voydonn interrupted himself momentarily to bang his seemingly malfunctioning machine a few times, in the hopes that might fix it – A very human gesture – before resuming,

"But we aren't in our universe, are we? I haven't had the opportunity to attune my device to the chronosphere we are currently inhabiting, but it seems to me something else is at work."

"And what might that be?" Trazyn snapped.

He was aware that the boy who was still clasped in his slender, mechanical fingers had not stopped struggling. He was losing patience.

Voydonn hesitated. "I am... unsure."

It wasn't often that there was something he didn't know about Necron technology. He didn't like it.

"From what I can tell," Voydonn said recovering from the momentary lapse in his knowledge, "there seems to be some sort of energy in the air. It is unlike anything I have ever seen."

Trazyn remained silent. As ancient as he was, this Cryptek was much older and he hadn't been placed in stasis with the rest of their kind. He had a lot of free time to study these things. If he didn't know what it was, that was an issue.

Voydonn was thoughtful for a moment, then dismissed it.

"It matters little right now. I can ask Dooku later. He is actually rather enlightened for a human. Back to the matter at hand though..." He motioned to the child.

Trazyn was reluctant to show any mercy. After all why should he? He was superior in so many ways and this child had showed him great offence, even if he had done no damage.

"So what if the Chronometron says he is important? It isn't our universe. Why should I care about it?" He stared at the boy again. Loathing.

"You shouldn't," Voydonn agreed, "but regardless, we are visitors here and, from a scientific perspective, that means we should interfere as little as possible."

"No interfering? What do you call what just happened then?" Trazyn said, looking in the direction of the battlefield, remembering what he had done with satisfaction.

"The Chronometron didn't seem to put much significance on it. Universally speaking, the sequence of events that follow will end in much the same fashion as if we hadn't gotten involved."

Trazyn directed his gaze at the boy. Then at Voydonn. Then back to the boy. With an old Necrontyr curse, forgotten by trillions, he dropped the child and his eyes glowed with disgust.

"Fine," Trazyn raised a finger, "But I'm keeping the head!" Then he turned and walked swiftly back to the podium where Dooku was waiting.

Voydonn nodded in agreement and turned to walk with Trazyn. Then he stopped abruptly.

"What head?" He asked with confusion.

Trazyn then stopped too and placed his face in his palm. When Voydonn caught up, the pair walked alongside each other, with Trazyn explaining the collection of Jango's head, until eventually the child could hear them no longer. He just sat there in the sand and continued watching the odd couple, until they had disappeared from view.

All the while, he stared at the little robotic bug that 'Trazyn' seemed to have dropped the head into and upon remembering it, once again began to weep.

"Father..." He managed to croak through his sobs...


	7. Dark Rising

The cabin rumbled around violently as the ship sailed out of the Geonosian arena and began to fly to it's next destination. Trazyn looked around silently, studying the interior of the ship. It was a dark brown colour, very sparsely decorated with no seating. It reminded him of the interior of many Necron catacombs, which brought back many fond memories of pillaging the artefacts of his brethren. Trazyn smiled internally at the thought, but this only further increased the alien feeling that was now creeping into his mind; he had never once felt alone on Solemnace, never seeing any need to invite some of the more personable Overlords and Phaerons to view his collection. No... He was content in the cold lifelessness of the pieces he had on display, as well as the many mindless robots that maintained them.

Things had changed now though, and very suddenly too. He was far from Solemnace, further than he had ever been before. He was surrounded on all sides by a menagerie of life forms and trapped in a land entirely unknown to him. The reality of his situation was just beginning to sink in: he was stuck, entirely at the mercy of the universe.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

After taking the head of Jango from his wailing brood, Trazyn and Voydonn had returned to the podium to find that the Count had disappeared, leaving only a droid with a message. The message instructed the pair to join Dooku in the hangar. They were taken to a transport craft and told they would be able to continue their conversation shortly, once they reached Dooku's 'secret hangar'.

It was cramped in the passenger's cabin. According to Dooku the craft was only supposed to hold ten, but there were a good fifteen Lychguard in there, at least. One other transport carried the remaining forty five or so. The lack of space didn't bother the Necron troops though, they never complained about anything. They just didn't have the mental capacity for it.

Trazyn's thoughts were interrupted as a voice came through the intercom.

"What is this ship called, Dooku?" Voydonn asked.

Whilst Trazyn had told Dooku he would be taking the journey in the passenger's quarters, Voydonn had opted to stand with Dooku in the cockpit. For some reason he was interested in the human and it was almost as though he sought... friendship, with the man. Trazyn scoffed at the ridiculousness of the notion.

_Necrons don't make 'friends' the way that the living do. Alliances are the closest we get to such a thing. Voydonn was likely just... How did humans put it? "Buttering him up" for what we need._

"It's called a _Punworcca 116_-class interstellar sloop," came the response.

Dooku's voice sounded as guarded as ever. Any warmth Voydonn was attempting to display, was clearly not being reciprocated.

"I had it flown to the arena as your associate dealt with the republic forces." He continued, allowing some cheer to break through his wall of ambivalence – although he wouldn't say it, he was _very _impressed with Trazyn's small army.

"I see," Voydonn said slowly. "What kind of propulsion does it use?"

It was at this moment that Trazyn realised what the old Cryptek was up to in there. He was slyly trying to ascertain exactly what level of technology this civilisation had to offer, without revealing his intentions to Dooku. If Dooku didn't know what they needed, bargaining would be much easier.

"Here." Dooku grunted, handing him a datapad, which Voydonn accepted gratefully.

He scanned through all of the information and nodded, pleased with what he had found. It was likely that the required technology existed to these people, all he had to do now was just figure out a way to get it.

"We are arriving now, lord Dooku." The pilot droid buzzed. "Do you require any assistance with the cargo?"

That remark annoyed Trazyn. The droid couldn't tell the difference between them and conscious-less matter! _I am not 'cargo' _he thought. _This is why wraiths don't talk..._

The ship flew into a small opening that appeared to be a cavern of some kind, however upon entering, it was obvious that this was merely a disguise for what lay further within. A large structure, comprised of various grey and brown metals made up the interior. Pipes ran along the walls, which seemed both natural and artificial. A few pillars were dotted around to bear the weight of the ceiling.

Trazyn stepped down out of the craft, followed by his Lychguard protectors. They immediately raised their warstaves defensively, scanning the new environment for anything that might threaten their lord. When they were sufficiently assured their were no assassins or anything else lurking, they lowered their guard slightly.

Dooku stepped out, alongside Voydonn.

"Now we are here, we can discuss things further." Dooku turned to face them, "Please, tell me who you are and what you are doing here."

"Well," Voydonn began "it all started twenty thousand years ago when..."

Dooku raised his hand to stop Voydonn.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but it seems I have some guests." Dooku said, with a smile creeping on to his face.

Seconds later, a pair of men came running down the corridor towards the three of them. Trazyn and Voydonn turned to see who Dooku had been talking about. The Lychguard raised their weapons in unison.

The pair slowed as they saw Dooku and they studied the Necrons with curiosity, who in turn, studied them back. They were both of what seemed to be the average human height. One had long hair and was dressed in white, whilst the other had short hair and wore black. They carried weapons the same as Dooku's, however there's were different colours, blue and green.

"Patience, Anakin" the one on the left said. He looked back to the group, with a ghost of a smug grin. "Still hiding behind droids, Dooku?"

Dooku shook his head, still smiling. "Master Kenobi. I would have thought you'd recognise the ones who slaughtered your friends."

Kenobi pointed with his lightsaber, "Oh I recognise them. How did you make these?"

Trazyn begun to grow angry at being spoken of as though he was some witless immortal. Voydonn placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Wait until the moment is right." he whispered.

"I didn't make them, as it so happens. Neither are they droids." Dooku retorted, enjoying the Jedi's ignorance. "I'm not sure what they are or where they're from but I know one thing: they're more powerful than any of you Jedi..."

Obi-Wan paused for moment, considering his options. Dooku was right. These droids, or whatever they may happen to be carved through the republic troops as if they were a herd of Bantha. He turned to his apprentice,

"Steady Anakin. We don't know what they're capable of. We'll take them together."

Anger flared in Anakin's voice.

"No, I'm taking them now!" He said, as he began to run at them.

Kenobi shouted after him, "No Anakin, no!"

Dooku raised his head slightly, gauging the distance between him and Anakin. He lifted his hand and... At that instant, Trazyn stepped between the two of them. He was tired of these pointless theatrics and knew that Dooku, whilst likely an able fighter, couldn't be counted on to dispose of this meddlesome duo quickly enough.

Anakin began to slow down at the sight of the colossus before him. His fury ebbed, giving way to fear and he began to shrink in the face of the Necron. Trazyn raised his staff to crush him like a bug, when it was wrenched from his hands by an unseen force.

Trazyn looked at his staff flying away from him with sheer surprise. Reassured by the fact that his opponent was disarmed, Anakin regained himself and went for the kill. Trazyn also recovered from his shock and narrowly avoided the deadly blade of plasma. In one deft motion, Trazyn countered by simply backhanding Anakin, who went flying into the wall.

As he slumped to the floor Trazyn turned back to deal with Kenobi, however he found that Dooku had already engaged him. They circled each other slowly, trading words needlessly. Trazyn looked on, exasperated.

_Why must they talk so much? This would be an ideal time for Dooku to strike._

As he thought this, Dooku raised his arm and lightning flew from his fingertips at Obi-Wan, who casually absorbed the attack with his blade. Voydonn stepped forward so he was stood beside Trazyn. They watched them duel for a while, whilst Voydonn commented on the incredible agility and powers of the two.

"It's as if they're being powered by the warp." Voydonn speculated with wonder, "Like psykers, they have the ability to fire energy and imbue themselves with increased physical ability, but it's putting no strain on their minds at all. It's like the immaterium of this universe is one with the material realm..."

He momentarily turned to face Trazyn,"That's what that was by the way, with your staff." Voydonn said, looking back to the duel. "The one called Kenobi use some kind of psychokinetic power to wrench it from your grasp."

Trazyn was silent and thoughtful as he watched the fight. The troops they had faced in the arena were no threat at all – a commissar's laspistol was more dangerous than the blasters they were using!

But these 'lightsabers', coupled with the psyker-like abilities of the 'Jedi' made them a very credible threat. He wasn't sure if the lightsabers would even harm his necrodermis body, and the Necron energies that flickered around it only decreased the likelihood of such damage, but he was slightly concerned nonetheless.

Dooku seemed to be gaining the upper hand and suddenly, when their blades were crossed, he struck at Kenobi, nicking his arm. This caused the Jedi to yell with pain and surprise, as he dropped his lightsaber. Dooku then followed up with another strike to his knee, making him fall to the floor.

Trazyn and Voydonn looked on silently, nodding approvingly at the older man's skill. Dooku raised his weapon as if to finish Kenobi, but at the same moment another lightsaber ignited behind Trazyn.

Trazyn turned just in time to see that Anakin had recovered, somehow, from the blow that he had received.

He darted forward to block Dooku's strike, but Trazyn was ready for it. He caught the young Jedi mid-leap and lifted him by the throat. Anakin, clumsily attempted to sever the metal arm clasping his neck, but Trazyn anticipated this and caught the arm. He took the lightsaber and, looking at it with minor curiosity, crushed it, before throwing the remains to the floor.

Dooku was shocked at how he had almost been caught off guard, momentarily forgetting Kenobi, who still lay, unmoving, at his feet.

Trazyn turned his attention to Anakin again. This time he would ensure the young Jedi would not be getting back up. Slowly, he moved his hand up to Anakin's shoulder. He took a firm grip of his arm and looked Anakin in the face. His expression was a mixture of uncertainty and fear at the Necron's intentions.

"You have been interfering far too much." Trazyn explained, "But no more."

And then pulled Anakin's sword arm completely off.

Blood sprayed everywhere as Anakin yelled, gushing like pus from one of Nurgle's sores. The Jedi couldn't take the pain and fell unconscious. He was thrown in a heap beside his master, discarded as if a broken toy.

Dooku stepped back to avoid the red spray, which was beginning to slow to a trickle. Kenobi reacted swiftly to the injuries of his friend, and used his saber blade to cauterise the wound, before slumping back into unconsciousness himself.

"So much for the 'Chosen One'" Dooku whispered. He was shocked at the brutality of Trazyn and the sight of such gore. Lightsabers were clean, elegant weapons. Limbs were severed regularly, but they never made such a mess.

"Chosen One?" Trazyn cocked his head at Dooku's statement. This could be good. Very good indeed.

"Yes," Dooku said, returning to his usual cold, calculating self. "the prophecy states that a child, born of the force, would bring balance between the light, as well as the dark. Anakin is supposedly that child."

Trazyn looked at the arm in his hand. _The right arm of the Chosen One. As well as..._

He looked around for the crushed remains of his foe's weapon and saw that Voydonn was picking through them with interest. Voydonn's eye glowed a variety of colours – a sign that he was thinking. He was clearly searching through the scraps for something.

_...As_ _well as the remains of his weapon. What a fantastic addition to my collection, that would make. Why, I could dedicate an entire wing to things I find on this journey! I'd call it 'Relics from the otherverse!' Or something like that._

Excitement began to bubble within Trazyn as he started to truly comprehend the opportunity this new universe afforded him. It was no longer an unfamiliar, hostile, cage for him, but rather an unexplored land, filled with new and exciting histories that he could plunder.

He walked over to Voydonn, who was still picking through the scraps, until he came across a small, green crystal. He pulled it out and his eye changed to the intense dark-red it became when he was studying something closely.

"Is this what powers your weapons, Dooku?" He asked without looking.

Dooku had stepped away from the two defeated Jedi, not wishing to kill them just yet. He moved over to Voydonn to see what he meant.

"The crystal? No, no, they focus the energy from the battery and use the force as a means of containment, to stabilise the energy emitted so that it doesn't harm it's user." Dooku explained.

Voydonn slowly bobbed his head up and down, attention still firmly on the crystal. If he had facial expressions, he would be frowning right now. He lifted his head back up to face Trazyn and his eye returned to it's usual, calm green, colour.

"I know what we need." He chirped happily.

Trazyn wasn't too fussed over this revelation. All that mattered was the lightsaber pieces on the floor. He pulled out his collector scarab, which buzzed over to remaining pieces of the shattered weapon and put them away for safekeeping. Trazyn then opened another pocket dimension, in which he placed Anakin's arm.

Voydonn began questioning Dooku as to the nature of the force and the lightsaber crystals. Dooku didn't respond immediately, then gave him an answer.

"If this pair could locate my secret hangar, then we are not as safe here as I first thought. Republic gunships will be arriving soon. We must go."

Dooku turned and walked straight past the Jedi, entering his sloop. Trazyn was sure he could handle more clones, but gunships and hordes of Jedi? Best not to try that just yet. He barked an order to his Lychguard, who stood to attention, then boarded their transports, before returning to the sloop himself.

The ships ascended and began to fly free of the Geonosian atmosphere. As they did so, Trazyn saw Dooku had predicted correctly. Half a dozen ships descended upon the base, and an array of Jedi warriors spilled out of the Transports. As he turned away from the sight, and walked back to the cargo hold, Voydonn followed.

"There are things we need to discuss." He told Trazyn, who nodded, as they moved to the corner and Voydonn began to explain...

_**Meanwhile...**_

Splitting pain seared through Mu' Jorro's head as he awoke. He wasn't sure where he was, until his vision began to clear and he saw his surroundings. It was dark, with only two of the many Geonosian moons casting their light onto the arena. It was carnage. Melted piles of clone troopers and the dead bodies of Jedi lay scattered amongst the red sands.

The Voss Jedi sat up and his memory swam back to him. He had been part of a great battle, where many had died. Except him. He was knocked out during the fighting, as one of the Geonosian's pit animals had struck him when his back was turned.

He got up to his feet and looked around. He had to try and find a way off-world. Hopefully a Geonosian starfighter had been left behind after the battle, if not he might be able to steal one an-

His head shot round as he could have sworn he heard something whispering. He felt a ripple in the force, unlike anything felt before. This felt strangely foreign, as if tainted by rage and hatred. It whispered seductively to him as well.

_Come..._

Mu' used his force-keen senses to locate the source of the whispers. He came to a small room, almost unnoticeable. He peered inside cautiously, but could see very little.

The whispering grew stronger.

He ignited his lightsaber to act as a light source and was comforted by the familiar hum of the weapon. As the room was illuminated he saw something signs of a small fight. Lots of blood and... A creature, unknown species, that lay in three pieces on the floor. Geonosian? No... Too red to be one of those.

As he moved closer to examine the corpse, something caught his attention. A small chink of pink-purple light, enveloped in mist of a similar colour hovered in the corner.

The whispering grew louder, becoming audible now. Mu' wasn't quite able to discern what was being said, however he could somehow tell what the strange language meant anyway.

He edged closer to the light and began hearing separate voices. Four to be precise.

The first voice sounded angry and full of might. It offered him the power to crush his enemies if he would but serve.

Mu' was immediately on his guard. This sounded like Sith treachery! Power was what they used to tempt Jedi into their service, but he would not be fooled not by-

As he thought this, the first voice went silent. A second voice came through, this one more calm. It sounded devious, yet also trustworthy somehow. It promised knowledge and understanding of anything he could think of.

This offer was better than the first. It wasn't full of the characteristic rage of the Sith. A better understanding of the force would allow him to better defend the Jedi order and the Republic. Perhaps he could just listen to the proposal...

The second voice faded and a third began. This one was full of warmth and caring, but was also very raspy, as if sick. It promised an escape from pain and a place for both him and those he cared for, in it's large, eternal family.

This was beginning to sound good. Not only could the Jedi order be given total understanding of the universe and the force, but also would be made the champions of what he assumed must be divine and benevolent creatures.

The third voice disappeared and a fourth began to speak. This one was slow, seductive and full of ecstasy. It promised him that he could become the Grandmaster of the new Jedi order and that a world of glorious pleasure awaited him, if he would just assist the voices.

Mu' Jorro had made his decision. Such an offer was too good to pass up, especially for the Jedi. With what was promised he could rule the galaxy and overthrow the chancellor! He could put the Jedi in charge and bring about a time of peace with the backing of these gods!

"What must I do?" He asked, his voice ragged at the thought of what awaited him.

Then came the singular reply,

_Touch..._

Without hesitation, Mu' dropped his lightsaber and rushed to the voices. He thrust his hand within the light and heard the voices murmur approvingly, thanking him for his service., repeating all their previous promises.

Mu' felt energy tickle at his hand. He felt great power welling within him and knew that he now had the ability to do anything. He stood there, enjoying the warm feeling of the foreign energies mingling with the force inside him. He waited until he felt he could take no more of the power without burning up and went to pull his hand out.

But it was stuck.

He tugged, harder and harder, but his arm would not give way at all. He started to panic as his pleasure turned to pain. The voices continued, telling him now that he was a fool, that he was doomed to suffer and had unleashed the forces of Chaos upon his reality.

Mu' started to scream and the voices started laughing cruelly, enjoying his torment. He was in indescribable pain. He let out a final pained screech and the power within him burst, exploding him from within and showering the room in his liquefied remains.

The walls began to glow different colours, one red, one blue, one green, and one pink. An assortment of foul-looking, snarling beasts could be seen within. Fierce winds ripped through the arena. The Jedi had been fooled into opening a portal.

And Hell came through it.


	8. A pretty swell guy

**_I'm writing these chapters larger now, but I'm doing it as and when. I'm considering just writing the whole story then uploading it all at once. Anyone think that's a good idea? Here's the next chapter. Hopefully now that the main storyline is on track, things can pick up a bit. Please, let me know what you think:_**

"So, we need the crystals?" Trazyn asked, still attempting to understand Voydonn's explanation.

The Necrons were still on Dooku's sloop, however a solar sailor had now been attached, so that they could travel to other parts of the galaxy. After beating down the Jedi assassination attempt, the group had left and were now on their way to an unknown destination. Voydonn was using the time to explain to Trazyn what he had devised.

"Yes, but there are also other things we need too." Voydonn answered, having finally gotten through to Trazyn. "Due to the absence of the warp in this universe, as well as the harmony with which both matter and immaterial energies are balanced, there are a few aspects of physics that work slightly differently to what we know."

"So... What you're saying is that you need their knowledge too?"

"I'm afraid so." Voydonn said with another metallic sigh. "We could be here for a while."

Trazyn wasn't as bothered at hearing that as he likely would have been earlier. Whilst it was true he craved a return to Solemnace, he could spare the time to continue collecting things here.

_Solemnace... _

Trazyn's thoughts turned to his little empire. How was it faring without him? Had any inquisitors attempted to invade again? Or maybe even his own kind? What of his collection too? The pieces were regularly maintained by canoptek servitors, but this occasionally resulted in the destruction of them too. Even more so when he was away. Had anything too rare been destroyed? He had no way of knowing, so he tried to put such troubling thoughts from his mind.

"How long is 'a while'?" The question born of curatorial concern for his gallery.

"It's difficult to say really," Voydonn mumbled. His eye turned blue showing his shame. "it could be weeks, months..."

He looked away

"Years."

"YEARS!?" He snapped, all of his emotion coming to the fore in a rare display of rage.

"I own the most expansive and prestigious collection in the entire universe! Why, there is so much filth after it, I can hardly ever leave! I have to conduct all of my business through a SURROGATE! I can't be away for YEARS!"

Voydonn looked back at him meekly. "I'm sorry Trazyn, but there is nothing to be done. We'll just have to wait. Now please regain your composure. It seems we are landing, wherever we are, so the Count will likely be joining us soon."

Trazyn reigned in his feelings and locked them away again, under a layer of typical Necron coldness. Voydonn had just sprung a thought to his mind though.

"How are we talking to them?" He asked. "I mean, how can they understand us?"

Voydonn regarded Trazyn momentarily, confusion etched in the colours of his eye. Then he remembered that Trazyn didn't know how the orb worked.

"It's a two way mind interfacing system." He said as though it was the simplest thing in the world. "The Orb connects with them psychically and with us through our local area feed."

"Local area feed?"

"Yes." Voydonn tapped the side of his head to illustrate it's location. "They're used for non-verbal communication between the rank and file." He paused then added, "But we all have one."

"Couldn't that be used against us though?" Trazyn shuffled nervously. He was usually the one in control. The possibility of being the pet of an over eager psyker didn't appeal to him.

Voydonn's eye dimmed momentarily and he looked down, before speaking. "No. It's extremely unlikely."

Trazyn stared into him.

"It could still happen though?"

Voydonn met Trazyn's gaze and his eye flashed slowly, as though he was nervous.

"Trazyn I nee-"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the crackle of a vox as Dooku addressed them.

"Gentlemen, we are about to land. If you wouldn't mind taking a seat..." Then the fuzz crackled off.

Trazyn sat down and looked to the door with anticipation. "Finally. I wonder where we are." He said with mild interest.

Voydonn said nothing, but only stared at Trazyn for a few seconds more, before looking away again.

They began to slow down, the ship rumbling gently until it was still. They had landed. The ramp door started to descend and the Necrons were met with the sight of a grand warship's interior, still under construction. At least, it was grand for the people of this universe. Necron starships could be up to sizes of fifteen kilometres; when finished this ship would only reach a paltry four and a half. Dooku stepped out of the cockpit to greet the Necrons.

"Trazyn. Voydonn." he said, bowing his head slightly,

"Welcome aboard the Malevolence."

_**On Geonosis...**_

It was utter chaos on Geonosis. The forces of the Daemonic gods, ran amok on the planet, slaughtering, maiming and torturing those people who were living there. After having been brought through the breach created by the Necrons, as a result of a power-hungry Jedi, the daemons began their invasion slowly, by reaching out to the many Jedi on the planet.

They were much easier to manipulate, simply because they already had an affinity with the force, an energy that the daemons found was very similar to the what could be found within the warp. Their influence was felt more strongly here.

Initially, the daemons lured the Jedi in, one by one, possessing them when they reached the arena. They would then return to the Republic base in their new host bodies, using the forms of the Jedi to exert their influence over the clone army and other creatures that were less susceptible to their touch.

When the process was complete and they had managed to obtain total control, they took the opportunity to strike. The clones were more than happy to follow their new orders to attack the local Geonosian population. The daemons in control of the Jedi regularly reported back to the Council that everything was fine, so as not to draw too much attention to themselves.

Things were going well for the daemons until eventually, the resident Jedi Master freed herself from her daemon possessor and struck it down. She also freed many of the Knights and mounted an incursion against their inter-dimensional foes, which proved successful initially, however things were going to get much worse.

Upon realising they had been discovered, the daemons still possessing the Jedi quickly left their hosts, killing them in the process. Then they launched a counter-attack against the Jedi and clones, who had been brought back under Republic control. The army now faced a daemonic invasion, which they could not handle alone.

They sought assistance from the Geonosians, who refused initially, however when they realised that the daemons were much worse than the clones had been, they soon obliged. With the joint might of the Republic and the CIS, the daemons could be held back, if only for a short while...

"General Castilie, ma'am!" a clone stood to attention before the Jedi Knight, "Here is the latest report from the front lines!"

Castilie took the datapad and nodded her thanks to the clone. The news looked grim. 5 groups of skirmishers had been sent against their ranks, all of which had been repelled, but at a major cost. Several dozen clones, droids (and the odd Geonosian) had been killed or destroyed. She looked out over the scarred landscape. There was worry in her grey eyes.

Castilie wasn't a particularly tall woman, about 5' 7'', but she was extremely agile, which proved useful against the daemonic aggressor she now faced. She had long, slender limbs and moved gracefully when wielding her two lightsabers, one yellow, one green. Her long blonde hair fell down behind her, except for the two plaits, which she wore over her shoulders. Her face was pretty, but also very stern, like many of the other Jedi.

She was a capable fighter, although she had very little experience of command. With the clone wars only recently having started, many Jedi were being tested in real war. She never thought much of her CIS foes; Battle droids were plain, dull-witted things, which never gave her much cause for concern.

The daemons were entirely different though. They were faster, stronger and smarter than droids, having a variety of terrifying supernatural weapons and abilities. They also had one other advantage over them – Cruelty. Whilst droid troops would just mow down their enemies without a second thought, they weren't living beings. It was in their programming to be merciless.

But the daemons were living creatures. They had free will, albeit a very limited amount within the constrictions of their master's commands, but free will nonetheless. They had a choice when it came to their actions and in the end were responsible for their displays of brutality.

And they had definitely made no attempts to hide it.

Castilie thought back to one of the earlier assaults, just after she had been liberated by Jedi master Saa'li-Ga:

The daemons had launched an attack on the clone fortification, killing a few but ultimately being driven off. Even so, the scene was savage indeed. The clones that had been killed, roughly a dozen or so, were in various states of mutilation. There was dismemberment, burning and some things that she hadn't the words to describe. One pair of clones looked to be already rotting, and upon closer inspection, had actually been eaten from the inside out by... Something. Whatever it was, it had escaped or been killed.

Needless to say, it was a bloodbath. It was the first insight into the terrible nature of their new enemies. Although the Jedi had temporarily been one with the creatures, their minds had not yet been able to decipher anything from the daemons' memories. In time, they would come to know more than they might like, but for the moment, they treated the daemons as any other savage race. The galaxy was full of them after all.

After they had recovered, they realised that not everybody had been accounted for. The bodies of the deceased troopers were brought together (the rotting ones were burned). There were however, still some who could not be found amongst the dead. One of the missing was a Jedi Padawan, there only because his Master had thought Geonosis might be a good proving ground, and brought him along. Four clones had also been captured.

The Jedi considered what this might have meant. It was obvious there was some purpose for the captives. If not, why bother taking them. So what might this purpose be? Could the daemons want something from the Republic, perhaps hoping to use them as a bargaining chip, or was there another reason for taking them? Slavery was illegal in most civilised systems, but these creatures clearly weren't civilised at all! In the end, there were too many unknowns. The Jedi could not know for certain, even with the aid of the force, and now with Master Saali dead it was up to her to decide the next course of action.

"What is your name trooper?" She said, returning to the present moment.

"Epsilon-632, ma'am." He answered her standing to attention again. She chuckled at his seriousness and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"At ease trooper. I meant your other name, I know all you clones give each other nicknames. Tell me yours."

He looked uncertainly at her face. It was a good thing he was wearing a helmet, otherwise she'd be able to see the fear etched all over his. Although, she could probably sense it anyway.

"I... uh... It's..." He stuttered.

"Go on. Tell me. It's not a big deal."

"Fats!" He spat it out, shouting a bit louder than he meant to, causing a few others to glance at him. "My name is... Fats. Not very impressive like some of the other names I'm sure you've heard, but... It's mine."

Castilie was a little taken aback. It was different.

"Ok... But I'm sure it has a very interesting story to it. Why don't you tell me?"

Fats hesitated for a second, before taking a deep breath and sighing.

"It was back in basic training," he began, "I ate a lot more food than usual one day and decided I quite liked treating myself to a little extra... Ha. Made me feel like a bit of a king in some ways, having my little feasts." He chuckled fondly at the old memories.

"Anyway, as a result I started put on some weight. It wasn't really noticeable until... Well..." He looked at the ground and nudged at the sand with his toes.

"Until what?" The Jedi asked. She had an idea where this was going, but she wanted to hear it.

"Until I couldn't fit in my armour anymore." He said pitifully. "Racer said I'd turned into a right old 'Fats' and the name stuck." He shrugged as though it no longer mattered to him, when clearly it did.

Castillie stared at him for a few seconds before breaking into a wide smile. "That's the funniest thing I've heard in weeks!" She said. "Don't clones have strictly controlled rations though?"

"We do," he replied, "but I, ah, ate from my brothers' when they weren't looking."

Her smile only grew upon hearing this. "Well, it's good to have a little comedy around here. The way things have been recently, we can certainly use it." Her face returned to it's previous, sombre expression upon remembering the current situation.

"Anyway Fats, go and fetch your squad leader. I need to talk with him."

"I'm afraid I can't do that ma'am." He answered sternly.

She stood up straight and looked at him, as a mother looks at a disobedient child. "Why, Fats, might that be?"

"Well ma'am, he got a little bit... eaten." His tone was grim.

Castilie's expression turned soft at being told this. "I should have guessed, but I'm sorry to hear it all the same." Came the sympathetic response.

Fats answered slowly, "Thank you, but now that you know who should I go and get for you?"

She put her finger on her chin and looked away, "Nobody." She said.

"Nobody?"

She repeated herself with a smile and a nod, "Nobody."

"I don't understand Ma'am. Why nobody?" Fats asked, confused.

"Because the squad leader is already stood right in front of me!" She beamed.

Fats was still fairly confused. He wasn't the quickest of clones.

"Uh, Ma'am?"

Castilie looked right into his visor and spoke, "Congratulations _Sergeant _Fats. You'll be leading your squad on our first raid!"

"Oh. Great!" he said.

...

_Oh no._ He thought.

_**Back on the Malevolence...**_

Trazyn's heavy footsteps resounded around the long, twisting corridors as the group walked along. He peered back to Voydonn, who was looking around quite happily, in his own little world whilst toying with the strips of gold that ornamented his staff. He still couldn't get his head around how Voydonn could seem so content given the situation.

Dooku hadn't told them where they were being taken, but Trazyn was made to leave his bodyguards behind. After much objection (and a few crushed droids to illustrate his point) he eventually relented and went on without them. He wasn't happy but he doubted there was really any need for them. It was more a matter of having to obey a human.

Dooku still had his bodyguards, although only two of them were actually with him now. Magnaguard, they were called. Trazyn studied them carefully. They were fairly tall, and looked to be much more agile than his Lychguard, however their armour and weaponry were inferior.

_I wonder how they would fare against Lychguard? Perhaps I can arrange a contest soon. It certainly would be entertaining. This entire universe seems very colourless compared to home._

"This is the room here." Dooku said, pointing out one door amongst a row of half a dozen. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I will return shortly." With that he turned curtly and exited the room.

The room was adequately sized, containing six chairs, a round table and a holographic emitter. It was by no means a homely room, but Dooku had guessed correctly. The clinical sterility was no discomfort to his strange guests.

The Necrons entered the room and took seats opposite each other.

"What do you think he wants?" Trazyn said, eyeing the room nervously, not quite trusting Dooku to give them total privacy.

Voydonn put his hands together and leant forward onto the table, sharing some of Trazyn's concern. "I'm not sure. He probably just wants to find out more about us, although it's likely he may have other plans."

Trazyn didn't like the sound of that. "Other plans!? How so?" He asked, slightly alarmed. He hadn't been concerned for his safety before, but now, separated from his bodyguards and the safety of his tomb worlds reclamation protocols... Things could get sticky very easily.

Voydonn tried reassuring Trazyn, "I'm sure it's nothing particularly insidious, but best be on guard in case he tries anything untoward." Voydonn himself wasn't sounding convinced of the innocence of Dooku's agenda, however. He put such thoughts from his mind and concentrated on Trazyn again.

"Anyway, I heard you faced down Khârn the Betrayer, without suffering so much as a scratch. If such a fiend can do you no harm, what chance does Dooku have?"

Trazyn only looked at the table, drumming lightly with his fingers. "Hmmm." He grunted in response. "Khârn's not so bad. He's actually a pretty fun guy to be around."

Voydonn was bewildered by such a response, his eye turning a bright pink to show it. He was intrigued though. "You can't be serious!" He chuckled

"Well," Trazyn began thoughtfully, "it must have been, oh, 300 years ago? At the battle of... Uh... I can't recall now, but that was when I first met him."

Trazyn was surprised at how naturally telling this story came to him. As a soulless killing machine, and somewhat of a hermit, he had few people he could hold conversations with.

"He was making his way towards me through an entire phalanx of Lychguard, picking them apart with little difficulty. I saw his axe, in all of it's glory and tried to collect it." Trazyn looked away, fondly remembering the sight of that wondrous weapon.

Returning his attention to the tale, he continued. "Suffice to say, he wasn't impressed and his response was to try and cut me in two. Much to my surprise, he stopped just short and looked around, almost disgusted at the heaps of necrodermis." Trazyn stopped and shook his head at the absurdity of what he knew was to come next.

"He twitched a lot, before grumbling something at them. I just asked what it was, then he screamed at me 'NO BLOOOD!? I MUST HAVE BLOOD! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD, SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!' At this point, he turned and ran into his own men, butchering them mercilessly, completely oblivious to the Necrons around him. They didn't try to stop him though. We all just joined in, slaughtering the chaos marines with him." Trazyn leaned back, basking in his memory.

"Afterwards, when his bloodlust had ebbed somewhat, he came over and let me take a look at Gorechild, before leaving the battle, as if to say thanks for helping him to please his god. Yeah, that Khârn is a pretty swell guy."

Voydonn looked uncertainly at Trazyn. "Really?" He said. "Khârn the Betrayer, one of the most unstable, insane individuals in our galaxy, champion of the god of blood and battle, just let you hold his prized weapon?"

Trazyn looked up thoughtfully. "I know it's hard to believe," He began explaining "but a lot of facts about him are wildly inaccurate, not to mention that nobody ever really gets to know him."

Voydonn looked incredulously at Trazyn. "Yes!" He said, exasperated. "Because he kills them!"

Trazyn just shook his head slowly, "No, I think you're missing the point here. But forget about it now. I'm not sure how many more references the fourth wall can handle before it collapses."

"WHAT?!" Voydonn exploded, unable to make sense of Trazyn's words.

"I trust everything is okay in here?" Came a voice from the doorway. Dooku had just entered the room to witness the state Voydonn was in.

Voydonn looked back at Dooku. "Yes. Everything is fine." He mumbled regaining his composure.

Dooku nodded. "Good. I'd hate to have the pair of you rampaging around my ship. Anyway, I'm sure you're curious why I brought you here?"

Both Necrons nodded in unison. "I would imagine you want to know about us." Voydonn told him.

"Yes, I do, but first I have a proposition." He said gleefully. Trazyn and Voydonn shared a glance as if to confirm what they had talked about earlier.

"I know you need certain things, and assuming that their purpose does not run contrary to my own designs, I can help you get them." Dooku chose his words carefully, so as to avoid arousing any suspicions or doubt in the Necrons.

Trazyn thought to himself for a moment. Dooku hadn't really done anything to give cause for concern, but neither had he done much at all to help him and his travelling companion. After much consideration, (Voydonn too from what he saw) he finally spoke up.

"That sounds a reasonable exchange, however it depends on what you want in return. We can't promise anything until we hear the rest of this bargain."

Dooku nodded understandingly and began to explain what he wanted.

"I've seen your technology in action and am impressed. Much of what you possess is far ahead of anything else in this galaxy." Dooku looked hesitant, but pushed on with his request.

"As you may have seen, a war has begun. A war I intend to win. A war that can be won easily with your help."

Trazyn was growing tired of the old man's babbling. "Just tell us what you want Dooku!" He snapped.

"Very well." Dooku replied, unaffected by the Necron's hostility. "Trazyn, Voydonn. I want your help with this war." He paused briefly, before bluntly stating his demands.

"I want you to build me a warship."


End file.
